


Come Closer

by sagechanoafterdark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Language, Wet Dream, powered reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagechanoafterdark/pseuds/sagechanoafterdark
Summary: After months of earning Bucky’s trust, it was far too easy to watch that foundation crumble.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 66





	Come Closer

In the purple hue of early morning, twilight flooded the room in calming purple and magenta hues, streaming through the large floor to ceiling windows illuminating both of you on the couch. The television sat black, long turned off after your late-night binge session, bottles of that orange beer you liked sat discarded on the coffee table along with a few errant candy wrappers littering the surface.

The birds sang outside under the brightening sky, just beginning their day in cheery tones and happy melodies. The only sound you could both hear was your own heavy breaths and the pounding of your hearts in your chests. Backed into opposite sides of the couch, you were still too close to one another. Chests heaving with every inhale of precious oxygen, he was staring at you with wide blue eyes his mouth slightly open in surprise. Your face heated in shame.

“I-I’m sorry. It…it was an accident.” You mumble unintelligently, as tears began welling into your eyes. “A-a dream. Please, please Bucky.” _Don’t be mad. Don’t hate me._ You want to say it but can’t. He’s not just mad, he’s furious and has every right to be. You had done the one thing you promised him you would never do. 

Pressing his lips together and breathing heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glares at you from the other side of the room. Standing in a half stumble, his chest heaving and a light sweat soaking through the shirt, blue eyes widen when he realizes what you’re saying. 

Bucky starts to back away, his cock tented in the gray sweatpants he wore and you tried not to stare as his tongue reached out wetting his bottom lip. Blue eyes turned away as he marched out of the room, nearly running down the hallway to the obvious safety of his quarters. Running away from you.

A gross sob ripped through you the moment you heard his door slam shut, the tears pouring from your eyes as you tried to calm yourself down. No. No, no, no, no, no. What had you done?

The friendship between you and Bucky had been built carefully, you’d come to the compound as an outsider, someone Tony had found, not unlike a lost dog. A psychic your powers were hard to define, you could read people’s minds, influence thoughts, and decisions, move objects and control people to an extent. At first, you were pretty sure that’s why the former Winter Soldier kept his distance, playing with people’s minds was child’s play. But that’s why you had rules.

The day you’d met the Avengers your jaw hit the floor when everyone greeted you with a handshake and a welcoming smile. You’d felt nervous, feeling the need to assure everyone there that you’d never invade their minds without permission; but also that sometimes you’d just hear things they didn’t mean to say. There was no way to stop hearing projected thoughts no matter how hard you tried and everyone sounded fine with it at that except for one, Bucky, his mind was unusually silent.

Maybe that’s what drew you to him and why you wanted to be his friend. His mind was quiet and reserved, calm and calculated; he didn’t think loudly or project often and it wasn’t until later that you found out why. After the tampering from Hydra and what Tony called ‘rewireing’ in Wakanda, his mind worked a little differently from others. He had avoided you the first few weeks; your probation analysis job on the team making it so you rarely had to leave the compound and giving you plenty of time to get acquainted with your housemates.

You’d managed to bond with almost everyone except for Bucky. It was strange to you in a place full of heroes that everyone was so accommodating and friendly to take you under their wing and teach you actual Avengers skills like how to fight and how to shoot but also spend regular time with you laughing, cooking and grabbing a coffee from the city. Hell, even Clint had taken you to his own home to meet his family after only a few weeks of knowing you.

It was surprising when the insomnia didn’t hit right away, but after the trip to the country it hit full force and you laid awake night after night watching the time tick by. Normally you’d have a tough time sleeping in new places, it would last months sometimes a year but it always came with the influx of new minds around you. Ironically on those sleepless nights was when your friendship with Bucky had begun.

It was around 2 am and you’d come out of your quarters, tired of just staring at the ceiling and counting the tiles on the floor. You were positive that everyone was sleeping so you didn’t bother grabbing a robe as you walked out in your sleep shorts and a tank top, but the light flashing from the television told you otherwise. Glancing into the archway you saw the back of Bucky’s head as he sat flipping through shows on Netflix; never selecting just scrolling. 

He hadn’t been overly friendly with you, never giving more than a passing nod or a quirk of a smile as he left a room. Deciding to leave him be you wandered into the kitchen, pulling out the kettle and a box of sleepy time tea. Maybe a cup would help you better than counting sheep ever did.

You eyed the package of Nutter Butters that Scott had left behind during his last visit and snorted when you popped open the package and took a couple. Turning on the stove with your mind as you finished filling the kettle and shoved a cookie in your mouth.

A startled gasp escaped you as the light flicked on above. Bucky stood near the entrance wearing a low set pair of sweats and a rumpled blue teeshirt, his blue eyes wide were wide in surprise as a blush crept over his cheeks. “Sorry,” he mumbled looking away and clearing his throat. “I didn’t think anyone else was up.”

“It’s alright,” you mumbled around the cookie, swallowing as you turned around puling down one then two mugs. Looking back at him with wide owlish eyes and a slight pout, “I can’t seem to sleep. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Bucky watched you carefully, his hand hadn’t moved from the light switch but he shrugged and wandered over to the kitchen island taking a seat. “You have trouble sleeping normally?”

Your eyes widened, was he actually having a conversation with you? “Um, only when I’m around new people.”

“Didn’t you live in the city before this?”

“Yeah, but I was taking sleep aids so my body would at least get some rest, plus naps during the day help when people are usually gone.” You shrugged your shoulder, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. His brow was furrowed as he mulled over what you said, the truth was you were afraid of scaring him off.

A huffed laugh escaped him, “Well that’s not… good, to take drugs and still not get any sleep I mean.”

You hummed in agreement watching the kettle as steam began to spout from it. Flicking off the stove before it began to whistle, collecting two spoons and the cups you wandered to the sugar bowl dropping in two teaspoons and stirring it. You hadn’t even realized that you were doing it with your mind until you heard Bucky’s breath hitch, his eyes staring at the slowly mixing liquid. Your hand crashed down on the cup stopping the movement and you winced.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed to say. “I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

“S’okay,” he said, taking a draught from the mug. “It’s normal for you right, just like breathing.” You caught yourself staring at him, there was no way that he was just doing this on his own out of the goodness of his heart. As if hearing your own thoughts he cleared his throat, “Look, Steve said I’ve been unfair to you and he’s right. I should put more effort into knowing you and not, avoiding you.”

An awkward silence stretched between you and he shifted uncomfortably. “Ouch, that had to hurt,” you snorted, sipping from your mug eventually.

“What?”

“Admitting that Steve was right.”

A bubble of laughter escaped him as his shoulders shook, “Yeah, it might just kill me.”

The two of you shared a little bit of laughter at Steve’s expense as you finished your tea. It was like that night after night. You’d find Bucky sitting on the couch flipping through Netflix; you would start the kettle and hear the stool scrape across the floor as he’d take a seat at the island to keep you company. You didn’t always talk, sometimes he could tell you didn’t want to and you were the same but just to be in the presence of another person felt comforting.

Conversations between you began to flow easier when you were around other people, he’d stopped avoiding you and would ask the usual safe questions about your day or what you were doing. After a few weeks, your twilight tea turned into late-night binge-watching once you’d convinced him to actually watch something other than previews of shows and movies.

A little more than a month later you were sharing inside jokes, quoting lines from episodes and movies you’d watched and laughed in the commons. Steve seemed proud of himself for pushing Bucky to talk to you finally, but you knew it was the late-night tea that did it. 

It was hard to admit, but you did miss him when he was gone on a mission. Once he’d come back, barely out of his gear he’d ask about the next episodes of the cooking show you’d been watching. He full-on belly laughed at your gasp of indignation when you vowed to never break the ‘sacred streaming oath’ his roaring laughter was a sound you found infectious.

The naps you’d manage to take during the day kept you from turning into a full-on zombie, just short one or two-hour snoozes usually when everyone was busy or out and the sleeping quarters were mostly deserted. 

You’d woken up after a particularly long nap with your hair askew and sleep still crusted in the corner of your eye when you’d come for coffee. Both Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen for lunch and you made a beeline for the coffee. Sam usually had a hard time not teasing you about sleeping in the middle of the day but today he wouldn’t relent and to your surprise, Bucky smacked him in the back of the head.

“D-Did you just Dinozo Sam,” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and pouring a cup of coffee.

Bucky rolled his eyes half glaring at the man, “Someone had to.”

The two of you glanced at one another and snickered as Sam made an exasperated noise leaving the room and throwing a wave over his shoulder.

A few nights later you were sitting on the couch with Bucky, it was around midnight and you were more than halfway through season four of some sitcom and throwing around casual conversation when he began asking about your powers.

“Why do you have such a hard time sleeping?” The question flowed naturally from him with his head was turned towards you resting on his fist, metal arm slung on the back of the couch like usual. 

Risking a quick glance over your mouth felt suddenly dry realizing that the two of you hadn’t discussed your powers since that first night. “We never really talked about it did we?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the television and clearing your throat. “People are loud and open when they sleep. Their unconscious minds are easier to fall into. It takes me a while to be able to tune it out, six or seven months more and I should be right as rain.” 

“Jesus,” he whispered under his breath. “Six or seven months? That’s, that’s got to be hard.” He watched as you shrugged your shoulders, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth. “But I thought you said you’d never read anyone without permission.”

“I don’t,” you said, a heavy sigh falling from your lips you turned your body to look at him. One couch cushion separated the two of you, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat beside the remotes and your empty beer sat balanced against the back cushion. “At least I don’t do it on purpose. It’s like wandering around in a dark room full of holes, eventually, you step in one. People like to project their thoughts especially when they sleep. Some are louder than others and I can’t stop them from wedging in, but I never actively read someone unless they wanted me to. At least not anymore.”

He hummed taking a long drink from the beer in his hand. “So, who’s the loudest?”

A breathy laugh escaped you. “That’s a tie between Tony and Steve. They both shout with their minds and it gets worse when they’re together or arguing.”

His nose wrinkled at the thought. “Tony I can believe, but Steve?”

“He’s so loud. Like unusually loud.” Your hands gestured wildly and your eyes got bigger as you ran a hand through your hair. “For a quiet guy, his brain is a freaking chatterbox.”

“What’s he say?”

A frown pulled at the edges of your mouth as your hands stilled. “I can’t tell you. I’m not even supposed to hear those things, they’re too personal and sharing that it’s like betraying someone’s trust.”

A surprised look lit his features for a brief moment and he pursed his lips. “Alright then,” a little bit of a wicked smile crossed his mouth, one that was almost all teeth and it sent a little thrill through you. “What am I thinking right now?”

You snorted, trying to remain as calm as possible and flipped a piece of popcorn up in the air and catching it in your mouth. “You want me to read your mind now? Thought me having powers freaked you out.”

He shrugged a shoulder at you, “I trust you.”

The breath hitch in your throat and you tried to blink back tears as they unexpectedly welled in your eyes. Very quickly you realized just how badly you wanted to hear that from someone, from anyone. He trusted you? Bucky looked panicked for a moment when he realized you were about to cry and you held up a hand. “Sorry, sorry,” you muttered wiping at your eyes briefly and you cleared your throat as your voice cracked. “Nobody’s, nobody has ever said that to me before.”

Buckys face fell and he reached forward clasping your hand in a comforting gesture. “That’s damn sad, Y/N.” His voice dropped an octave and his brow was furrowed.

That night you didn’t read his mind, but he sat a little closer to you, still holding your hand and rubbing little circles around the back of it as contestants on television tried to make flan. Bucky trusted you and you were positive that was the cause of where your own mind started to drift. 

It was after that during one of your mid-afternoon catnaps you’d had a dream about him. It wasn’t an overly sexual dream, from what you could remember more like a heavy petting make out session that left your heart hammering in your chest and an ache between your legs. The images were vivid and almost felt real, but they faded quickly as you drifted to being fully awake leaving nothing but a sour taste in your mouth.

Over the next few days, the dreams evolved into more lingering thoughts. You’d wake up sure you were still able to taste him, positive you could feel the controlled violence in his grip on your hips, hear the wet slurp of his mouth against your pussy. With the last one you’d woken up with a hand down your pants, close to orgasm; you finished in what you’d call record time, shouting his name into your pillow and feeling an instant rush of guilt.

The two of you were just friends but it was a fantasy you were obviously intent on indulging in; he was gone for two weeks on a mission with Steve and Sam and the dreams only got more and more graphic. When you were sitting at the conference table, Tony almost shouting your name to gather your attention you knew that you had to get a handle on it and now. 

The mission was a success and there was plenty of data to go over, your late nights were now filled with actual work so that put your pining on hold at least until Bucky came back.

You were sitting in his spot on the island, tablet in your hand and going over more data about a second flopped Hydra super-soldier program when two hands covered your eyes from behind. “Guess who,” rumbled from behind you.

There was no way you could stop the smile, “Is it….Santa! Oh, I knew you were real!” You exclaimed with a half laugh as your vision came back and Bucky came around the counter setting a paper sack beside you. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh a gift for a friend,” he teased back.

You tried to ignore the stab of guilt at the word friend, “Well, Sams on assignment right now so he’ll have to wait to get it until then.”

Bucky snorted with a roll of his eyes, “Like I’d ever bring him something, open it.”

Smiling at him you reached into the bag and pulled out a glass jar wrapped in delicate purple tissue paper, reading the french label you scrunched your nose in confusion. “Bath salts? Really?”

“I was thinking about it while I was gone, you said that you’d lived next to a lavender farm when you were younger and it had always helped you sleep.” He shrugged, reaching for a plum in the fruit bowl beside you. “Saw it when we were doing recon in France and thought you’d like it.”

Swallowing hard you looked back down at the gift in your hand, the jar was filled to the brim with purple crystals and you opened it smelling the familiar scent. You’d only told him that in passing when you were watching a documentary months ago, how the hell did he even remember that? You licked your lips and tried to hold back the tears and when the hell did you become such a sentimental fool?

“T-thank you Bucky,” your voice wobbled and he’d noticed.

“Come on doll, don’t tell me this is the first gift you’ve ever gotten.” He scoffed, but when you nodded your head trying to wipe away tears as quickly as possible his voice turned more somber. “Well, I’m glad it was me that could give it to you.”

That made your breath hitch and if Bucky noticed he didn’t say anything about it though instead he continued eating the plum in hand and gave a wave. “I’m off for a debrief, see you tonight there’s a new sitcom I want to watch about ranching, Nat said it’s pretty good.”

Making a noise of commitment as he left the room you watched him leave then glanced back at the jar in your hand. Something about all of this felt entirely too dreamlike. This was real right? You were actually living here in the compound; talking to the Avengers and being an actual part of their team. 

Tony giving you actual Avengers grade assignments and respecting your mind.

Steve training you on basic combat skills and always laughing at the stupidest of your jokes.

Wanda letting you flex your powers against her and getting to have actual gal pal conversations.

Nat teaching you how to shoot a gun and being honest as hell with you when you would need it.

Clint being impressed with your bow and arrow skills and taking you to dinner with his family.

Sam kicking your ass at hand to hand and eating about a dozen too many of your cookies the next day.

Bucky spending his own sleepless nights with you and treating you far more kindly than you felt you deserved. 

It was like you were living a fantasy. Maybe the sleepless nights were getting to you or you were reading into it too much?

With a heavy sigh, you took the tablet with you back to your room deciding to put Bucky’s gift to use before your usual afternoon nap. The bath was hot and the salts dissolved quickly as you slipped into the water up to your chest. Breathing in the calming scent your muscles relaxed as did your mind, you remembered the soft parts of your childhood, the parts before you’d woken up hearing every thought within a fifteen-mile radius. The parts of your life filled with lavender fields, laughter, and games with other children before they were scared of you. But then Bucky was there, holding your hand in the field, his laughter making your insides flutter, kissing you softly and leaving love bites down your skin, his strong hands cupping your curves, his mouth tasting you in every sense of the word.

You were unsure of when you’d drifted off to sleep, but when you woke with a jolt the bath was cold and you stiffly sat up, draining the tub and taking a hot shower trying not to think about the dream.

Putting on the comfiest pair of pajamas you owned you looked at the clock, it was already late and you knew Bucky would likely be waiting for you on the couch. You came out just in time to bid Steve goodnight as he walked past, giving you a curious look as he walked past. Bucky was already in the kitchen with a freshly popped bowl of popcorn and a six-pack of beer in his hand. 

To your surprise, Steve wandered back out into the kitchen. “Movie night?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of popcorn with a quirked eyebrow. It was then that you realized that Steve never had any real idea that you’d been spending your nights with Bucky watching lame television shows in an effort to bond. His calculating blue eyes shifted between you and Bucky and you didn’t quite like the tiny pull at the corner of his mouth. “Just the two of you?”

You were positive that your face flamed red in embarrassment, but Bucky scoffed at him elbowing him in the ribs and steering you towards the archway. “Go to bed old man. Don’t you have to be up at 5 am for your run.”

Forty minutes and two beers later you were feeling the buzz, you’d drank them a little faster than normal but it would be fine. Watching the first few episodes of the show you could tell that Bucky was hooked, he would lean forward when he’d start to like a show and sit calmly when he’d care less about it. Tonight you’d somehow plopped right next to him, a pillow wedged between the two of you as you sat and you could feel your head getting heavier with each passing moment.

At some point, Bucky must have realized that you were falling asleep because a blanket came and draped itself over you and you couldn’t help but sigh in contentment and lean over to get more comfortable resting your head against his metal arm. The whirring noise comforting you and lulling you further into sleep.

It didn’t happen right away, first you’d felt his metal hand rest comfortably against your knee, thumb stroking against the skin, then it started to slid higher. The cool vibranium sending a chill through you as it caressed up your bare leg. Trying to ignore him in favor of precious sleep you rolled to the other side of the couch, laying flat with your feet wedged just under his thigh.

On the edge of a deep sleep, you felt the wandering hand once more, this time on the back of your thigh, fingers tracing only inches from where you wanted them, his thumb brushing against your clothed heat and you squirmed, legs opening a little further but you’d managed to keep your eyes shut.

A startled gasp escaped you when you felt the blanket yanked from your body. Blinking your bleary eyes you were surprised to find Bucky leaning over you, his face inches from your own; breath fanning across your face smelling of stale beer and popcorn. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“You,” came your breathy response and you reached up pulling him down into a searing kiss. It was a kiss of teeth and tongue while his hands cupped your breasts, nimble fingers rolled your nipples through the shirt you wore. His mouth switched to suck on them through the fabric of your shirt hot and wet, biting at your clothed flesh as you hooked your hands into the waistband of your own pants wiggling your hips as you pulled them down.

His own hands replaced yours pulling your pants and underwear down around your ankles, a groan of appreciation escaped his throat as he looked at you.

“You’re so wet for me already doll.” He half-whispered, hands going to your ass and lifting you up from the couch he leaned forward and running his tongue over your folds catching on your clit your breath hitched. “Your dripping.”

He did it again and again, strong hands palming your ass flexing and squeezing as he began feasting on your core. Fisting a hand in his hair you ground your hips into his eager mouth your thighs clenching around his head. Stuttered moans escaping your lips each time his nose bumped your swollen clit. 

“You taste so fucking good.” He moaned from between your legs.

Two digits pushed into your soaked folds stretching and making you clench around him while his mouth and tongue worked against your clit. You were close, just one more suck to your clit and you were sure to cum when he pulled away, his hands dropping you back to the couch with a bounce and shoving down his pants.

Grasping your hips in a bruising grip Bucky pulled you down into his lap, straddling his hips and opening you wide. His cock slid into you with little to no resistance, you moaned feeling him fill and stretch you. Riding him slowly, you watched the way his jaw would clench when your hips rolled into his. Begging for hot friction against your clit as his hand reached down rubbing in a circle that had your hips stuttering in their thrusts. 

Shifting you to the floor Bucky slid back into you with a single hard thrust. Braced on his elbow and holding your hips with his flesh hand he began pounding his hips against your own. All too soon you felt the rising tide of orgasm start again.

“Harder, fuck me harder Sargent,” you moaned, hands gripping at his shoulders, your own hips thrusting back onto him.

He gave an answering grunt, his hips crashing into you at a bruising pace you’re about to cum, you can feel it building, so close. 

“Harder Bucky, fuck me harder!” You gasp out hoarsely, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder as tears spring to your eyes. “I’m so close please, please!” You teetered on the edge of orgasm, so close you could taste it when the bowl of popcorn drops to the floor shattering into a dozen pieces.

Your eyes shot open, a shiver racing through you at the sudden loss of heat as Bucky sat at the opposite side of the couch, the shattered popcorn bowl laying on the floor. His blue eyes were wild and looking at you with obvious confusion knitting his brow together. A fine sheen of sweat soaking through his teeshirt and beading on his forehead. You could feel your face heat in shame as you realized what had happened, you’d projected to Bucky of all people. 

He was on the opposite side of the couch now, staring at you unbelievably, his fists clenched and mouth contorted in a frown. Chest heaving as he pulled precious oxygen into his lungs, he was glaring at you. Cold anger pulsing through his eyes and you knew you deserved every ounce of it.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered frantically, tears springing to your eyes in spite of knowing it wouldn’t fix anything, only serve to push him further away. Maybe that’s what you deserved. “It…it was an accident? A-a dream. Please, please Bucky.” _Don’t be mad. Don’t hate me._ You want to say it but can’t. 

Bucky’s face contorted from confusion to sadness directly to anger. He wasn’t just mad, he was furious and has every right to be. You had done the one thing you promised you would never do and it was all your fault.

Pressing his lips together and breathing heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glared at you from the other side of the room. Standing roughly in a half stumble, his mouth opens and closes a couple of times unsure of what exactly he should say. Instead, he starts to back away, his cock tented in the gray sweatpants he wore and you tried not to stare as his tongue reached out wetting his bottom lip. 

With one last attempt to say something, Bucky closes his mouth with an audible snap. An outraged sigh leaving him as he turned away as he marched out of the room, nearly running down the hallway to the safety of his quarters. Running away from you.

A gross sob ripped through you the moment you heard his door slam shut, the tears pouring from your eyes as you tried to calm yourself down. No. No, no, no, no, no. What had you done?

Steve found you a half-hour later, soft whimpers shaking you as you picked up the pieces of the broken bowl. You started crying all over again when he asked from the doorway what had happened. “I fucked up Steve. I fucked up so bad,” the whimpered words escaped your mouth. “What-What’s wrong with me? Why am I like this?”

After another half hour of hot tears in the living room, telling Steve embarrassingly what had happened. The super soldier was stroking calming circles over your back as your breathing returned to normal and you had cried as much as you could, you sniffled and apologized again. “I’m sorry for ruining your run this morning Steve. I’ll be alright you can go.”

“I don’t think I should go anywhere,” he said, blue eyes boring into your red-rimmed ones. “This needs fixed Y/N. I can talk to Bucky he’ll listen.”

A heavy sigh escaped you as you turned away. “Just let it go. It was a fantasy Steve, I should have known better,” your voice sounded distant and tired to your own ears. “I made him into something that he’s not, that’s my mistake. Now I have to pay for it.”

“You know you’re awful at this shit.”

Both you and Steve turned around seeing Bucky standing behind you, his arms crossed over his chest and mouth set in a firm line. “Excuse me?” Steve sounded a little bewildered.

“Comforting someone, your awful at it. Take a break,” his blue eyes settled on you. “We need to talk.”

You could feel Steve’s gaze shift between you and Bucky before he quietly relented slid off the couch and walked out the front door, presumably for his now late morning run. You swallowed hard once you were alone with Bucky again; his eyes held that hard edge you hadn’t seen since you’d become friends, you looked away uncomfortably. “Bucky I’m-”

“Stop,” he barked out making you flinch. He stood there quietly as more uncomfortable silence stretched between you than there had ever been, and just when you thought you were all cried out new fresh tears started again. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I’m sad you idiot!” You snapped, pinning him with a glare. “You hate me. You’re the first person to actually tell me they trusted me and-and-I-I broke that and you saw…”

Your face flushed red as a blush crept up Bucky’s face. He cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms and leaning onto the back of the couch with a white-knuckled grip. “Well, everyone’s going to be awake soon and I don’t have time for this so I’m going to get to the point. What is it you want, Y/N?”

There was no way your face could hold any more blood than it was at this very moment without your head exploding. Bucky leaned over the top of you, his face only inches from yours but the implications from your shared dream flashed through your mind. You licked your bottom lip and his gaze seemed to flick down for the briefest of moments. “Wh-what do I want?”

“Yes, what is it you want?”

It was almost like the world clicked into focus at that moment. The last few months had been the happiest you’d ever been despite never sleeping a single night. There was no way Bucky had as many sleepless nights as you did. But there wasn’t a single night that he wasn’t waiting for you to watch a show or talk over a cup of tea. He would laugh at your stupid jokes, more than Steve ever did; he would seek you out after a mission first and helped you bake flop cakes from scratch and brought you back gifts from his trips. What did you want? What did he want?

Swallowing hard you took in a shuddering breath. “I want you, Bucky.” Glancing up you see his eyes half-lidded and push yourself further, just a little more. “I don’t want to be just friends Buck, not anymore.”

“It’s about damn time,” Bucky muttered, leaning down his fingers threading through your hair and crushing your lips together. Your eyes go wide but when his lips move against yours you immediately cave, your fingers searching out the soft material of his shirt and pulling him closer. His tongue swept across yours and your teeth tugged at his lip before opening your mouth and tasting him. It’s messy and it’s imperfectly magnificent.

“I’m so happy I could cry,” you laugh.

“Please don’t.” He half laughed against you, biting at his bottom lip. “You were wrong about a couple of things though, Y/N.” He said, a cocky smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth. “I’m much better than what you thought up.”

You laughed loudly throwing your head back as you rose on your knees throwing your arms around his neck. Behind him, there was someone in the kitchen rattling around for morning coffee and a startled gasp from the archway. Ignoring them you cupped his cheek, thumb caressing lightly over his facial hair as a smug smile crossed his face and you leaned in. “Don’t step on my fantasy, Barnes.”


End file.
